I was trapping in N. La. years ago and my trail took me between two sloughs/beaver ponds.. At one place the dry land was only about 8-10 ft. wide. If I didn't use this trail, I would have to walk an extra 3/4 mile to get to some of my traps. It had been cold for several days and then it turned off exceptionally warm for 2 days, got into the high 70's or low 80's. Then a front blew in and it was back into the 30's overnight. As I was walking down my trail the next morning, looking around but not paying attention to where I was stepping, I stepped on a cottonmouth. It was one of those moments where you caught a glimpse of something not right, just as your foot touched down. Somehow I knew instantly I had stepped on a cottonmouth and I remember a cold chill all over my body. I jumped, probably squealed like a little girl, but because of the cold, the snake was too sluggish to strike. I found me a stick and put a whoooping on him.
